


What Now?

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Family, Friendship, Post-Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 09:58:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5924146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three guys sitting around talking. What to do, now that the most evil wizard of all has been defeated?</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Now?

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

Harry wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. He didn’t’ think when he was asleep. He didn’t remember. No one bothered him with questions about his future or condolences about the friends he had lost. Although he appreciated the sincerity of perfect strangers, he'd rather not deal with it. 

What really irritated him were the people who wanted to know "what it was like...how did it feel…" when he had faced Voldemort for the last time. They always sounded sincere, but their eyes gave them away. The avid, bright hunger that shone, whether for gory details or some quirky insight into his soul, that they could take away and chew over or embellish out of all proportion when they told their friends. 

Harry rolled out of bed, knowing sleep was impossible now that his brain was fully engaged. He headed downstairs towards the kitchen, where he was silently greeted by the smell of coffee. There was something soothing about that rich aroma, so thick that it tasted good to breathe. Coffee had comfortable associations for Harry. It meant warmth and companionship and long conversations. It evoked the comfort of old, but much loved clothes. Coffee meant spending time at a heavy wooden table, hands cupped around thick mugs, talking with a special person. Coffee meant Sirius. 

And there he was, leaning back in one kitchen chair, feet propped on another, gazing out the window at the light summer rain, apparently lost in thought. Harry headed for the coffeepot. "Maybe we should start a club for people who can't stay in bed until a normal hour," Harry joked. He brought the pot over to the table to top up his godfather's cup.

As Harry sat down, Sirius looked at him with an oddly quizzical expression.

"What are you thinking about?" Harry asked somewhat uncertainly. He was favored with a rueful grin.

"I'm trying to decide what to be when I grow up."

Harry blinked, surprised. He saw his godfather as a man of action, someone who had fought tirelessly over the past few years to defeat Voldemort. Sirius had been an important member of Albus Dumbledore's inner circle. He had brought a number of skills to the table, among them a knack for strategizing and planning, a fierce determination, seemingly boundless courage and the fastest wand hand Harry had ever seen. He still had trouble believing that Wormtail had been able to pull off his frame of Sirius in that crowded London street all those years ago. Sirius’ life had been torn to pieces back then, and he had never had the chance to put it back together. Until now.

At that moment, they were joined by Remus, who pointedly ignored the coffee and began his morning tea ritual.

"No coffee for you, Moony?" Sirius asked, smirking at Harry.

"No, thank you. Your coffee is strong enough to make my hair stand on end. And, since you've sucked Harry into your perverse cult of caffeine madness, I can't rely on him to make a non-lethal cup, either."

A silence fell as all three people stared fixedly at the liquids in their respective mugs. Finally, Harry broke the quiet.

"I don't know what I want to do, either."

Remus' eyebrows shot up as he looked from one to the other.

Sirius shrugged. "We're talking about what happens next in our lives, Moony. You’ve taken a big step towards normalcy, getting Unicorn Books to agree to publish your definitive text on werewolves. Maybe you can provide us with some sensible advice."

"I suppose you'd be hard pressed to find three other people who have had the 'careers' we've had," Remus smiled. "A werewolf who makes some money doing research and magical creature vermin control, an exonerated convict who makes no money for putting his life on the line fighting the dark forces and a recent Hogwarts graduate who has accomplished feats that the wizard world will remember forever."

Harry smiled. "Also without pay. Sirius, you used to work with Moody at the Ministry. Do you want to go back to that?"

Sirius was silent for a moment, his expression darkening. "I don't want anything to do with the Ministry. I know that's extreme. I know the Ministry has good, capable people doing important work. But, I can't get past their mistakes. They've condoned terrible things like imprisonment without trials or trials without legal representation. Their refusal to believe that Voldemort had returned left them flat-footed once they realized they were wrong. They were unprepared, criminally unprepared, and I firmly believe that there were needless, preventable deaths as a result of the Ministry's blindness." Sirius stopped abruptly. With an apologetic expression he said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to start ranting."

Remus reached out to place a calming hand on top of one of Sirius' clenched fists. "It's okay. Rant away; you’ve earned it. Although, I have to say that maybe what the Ministry needs is people like you, shaking things up, rattling people's cages, subverting the old, tired processes from the inside." Three sets of eyes watched as the fingers of both hands intertwined.

But, Sirius obviously placed employment at the Ministry far down on his list of priorities. "Actually, right now I'd much rather stay home and work in the garden, or amuse myself in the kitchen. And be with you." 

"That sounds idyllic, but we all know you have a restless mind. You'll eventually get bored proofreading my book, trimming hedges and roasting chickens."

Harry interjected. "You could write your autobiography. You should, you know, before someone like Rita Skeeter takes it into her head to write something about you."

"Oh, God," Sirius groaned. "Can you imagine? You realize what her book would be about, don't you? She’d devote five pages to Azkaban and several hundred pages making up lurid tales about our sex lives. ‘Sirius Black and His Savage Werewolf Lover.’ ”

"Oh, please, let’s not go there." Harry snickered.

Remus said, "Right, let’s leave our lurid sex lives behind closed doors. Let’s talk about you, Harry. What's out there that you want to do? Just start talking, don't think too hard about it. What do you want to do?"

Harry’s grin faded as uncertainty settled on him, like a cat suddenly leaping into his lap. "I'm not sure. Maybe I should go on to graduate level courses in wizard law or something. Maybe I should ask Mr. Weasley what sort of positions are open at the Ministry and see where that takes me. Maybe I should look into playing Quidditch professionally. Although, people might think that I should be doing something…I don't know…more important than playing games. You know, sometimes I just want to…well, never mind."

Harry's face fell as he finished speaking. Remus prompted him gently. "Harry, you can tell us anything. We're not here to judge you. We're here to give as much support and advice as we can.” He paused. "Sometimes you just want to…what?"

"Sometimes I want to turn into a hermit and not go anywhere and not see anyone and not have to deal with people expecting me to be some bigger-than-life creation. I just want to be normal. I haven’t been normal since I found out I was a wizard. What I really want to do right now is sit still and not do anything." 

Remus looked thoughtfully at the young man. “You need to put some distance between yourself and what has happened with Voldemort. By ‘distance’ I mean time and space. Maybe you should travel a bit, get out of the country and go someplace where you’re not a front page celebrity. You may be surprised at how your perspective on things can change.” 

Harry looked from one man to the other. "Maybe. But, I really have to make a decision soon. I'm almost eighteen, so I've got to think about finding my own place as soon as possible and getting out of your hair."

“As soon as possible?” Remus and Sirius repeated, looked blankly at each other and then searchingly back at Harry, as if to find the answer to an ancient puzzle somewhere on his face. Sirius finally spoke. "Harry, what are you talking about? Is there some sort of secret deadline you have to meet?"

Harry wondered why they had suddenly grown so dense. As he opened his mouth to explain, a small part of him wriggled with delight as he realized he had flummoxed them both at the same time. It was not a common occurrence. 

"What I mean is that it's time for me to go act like an adult. You don't need to have me constantly underfoot here. If I move out, then you'd be able to live your lives together like you've always wanted."

Harry thought he had made a perfectly rational explanation, but saw from their expressions that he hadn't lifted the veil of confusion. Remus looked questioningly at Sirius. "Does this make any sense to you?"

Sirius raised one hand, holding his thumb and index finger a hairsbreadth apart. "About this much. Harry, we don't want you to leave. We know you will, eventually, because that's what everybody does. But there is no law that says you must get your own place immediately upon graduating from Hogwarts. And if you decide that you never want to leave, that would be fine, too. We love you, Harry."

Harry felt a sudden lump in his throat. He didn’t trust himself to speak and was glad that Sirius kept talking. “Through no fault of your own, you were put into the position of being Voldemort’s major target and adversary. Most people in the wizard world heaped all sorts of expectations and hopes and dreams on your shoulders without any regard as to how unfair that is, as well as being an impossible load for one person to carry. But now somehow those expectations have made you feel responsible for the deaths that occurred during this war, as if whatever mistakes our side made were entirely your fault. Well, they weren’t your fault. You fought with strength and courage well beyond your years in a battle unlike anything any of us has ever known. We all made errors. We all have some blame to carry. Don’t try to take it all on yourself. You’ve forgiven others for their mistakes; you’ve got to forgive yourself.”

He had unerringly gone straight to the heart of the matter. Harry stared hard at Sirius. “That’s not an easy thing to do.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. It’s not easy, it hurts like hell, and it takes a long time.” Sirius looked at Remus, his eyes suddenly lit with the warmth of a summer sky. “But, the people who love you will be there to help you, no matter how long it takes, whether that means they give you a shoulder to cry on or tell you to stop acting like a total prat.”

Remus smiled back at Sirius. “You were worth the effort.”

Harry felt comforted enough by this exchange that he was able to muster a smile when the eyes of both men returned to him. “Well, then, yeah, I’d like to stay home for a while.” 

Sirius stood up, waving his mug in the air. “Refills?” 

“Please,” Harry and Remus said in unison.

As Sirius busied himself with tea and coffee, Harry pondered about a thought he had had for a long time. Swallowing hard, he decided not to keep it to himself any longer. He turned in his chair to face Sirius as he spoke. “You know, Sirius, when people mention my father, I picture James the way he looks in some of the photos I have. It’s weird. It’s like picturing an actor who’s known for a specific part. But, when people talk in general about fathers and how they love you and guide you and pick you up after your mistakes…well, I don’t think of James. I think of you. And I thank God that my parents were smart enough to make you my godfather.”

Sirius froze, staring blankly at Harry. Then, suddenly, he laughed, and grabbing Harry by the shoulders, hauled him to his feet and into a tight embrace. “That’s about the best thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you, Harry.”

“Really?” 

Sirius grinned at Remus. “Well, it’s right behind one or two things Remus has said to me over the years.”

Remus launched himself from his chair to throw his arms around both of them. “Then, it’s settled, Harry. You stay here for as long as you need to, whether it’s a month, a year or a lifetime.”

They dropped back into their chairs, armed once again with mugs of comforting liquid. Harry glanced from one man to the other. “Promise me one thing?”

“Sure.” “Name it.” They responded.

“Wherever I end up or whatever any of the three of us does, we agree to spend at least one morning each season of the year at this table, drinking coffee or tea and putting the world to right.” 

“It’s a date.” Sirius grinned, extending his hand out towards the others. They firmly grasped it, smiling, knowing an additional bond had just been created.


End file.
